


Shaping the Sky

by valderys



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crack, Dubious Consent, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-22
Updated: 2010-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-07 11:24:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valderys/pseuds/valderys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Yes, yes, I'm entirely familiar with the concept of 'take one for the team' – but excuse me if I hadn't anticipated the necessity for it here!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shaping the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Xanphibian's B-Movie Ficathon in 2006. The prompt, if you want to see it, is at the end of the fic - it's an incredibly cracky movie, and the fic is a lot less so, actually. Whilst being more cracky and indeed more PWP than I ever usually write! :)

"Yes, yes, I'm entirely familiar with the concept of 'take one for the team' – but excuse me if I hadn't anticipated the necessity for it here!"

Ronon stared at McKay. Noted the way his fingers – what he could see of them – were twitching (a good sign) but too pale (a bad sign). He weighed his knowledge of McKay's proclivities (a barrage of mixed signals), against his certain knowledge that without his willing co-operation this was going to be a lot worse before it got better. If it got better.

Ronon strained his neck a little in the other direction but saw nothing but the usual slightly organic walls of such ships as these, and now that McKay couldn't see his face, he curled his lip in anger, and clenched his fists. He needed McKay – he couldn't have him freak out at the wrong moment, he couldn't have him waste this chance. He wondered if it was worth it, the humiliation, the persuasion of McKay, all of it, and then strained the muscles in his legs and arms a little more – testing the bonds of the cocoon, always testing. He mustn't freak out either – because asking himself was it worth it, after Running for seven years? That was tantamount to a betrayal of sorts, although Ronon was unsure any more who he might be betraying.

He turned back and stared some more. McKay flinched, and Ronon watched as he then licked his lips nervously, before smiling at him slowly. McKay appeared to try to back off – impossible in these Wraith cocoons – and then began to flush. The rosy tips of his ears went a particularly attractive shade of pink. Ronon's smile was no longer so false. What he had forgotten was how long it had been, perhaps for both of them. This would be a hardship, what they had been ordered to do, but no longer a chore. McKay was attractive enough, when he wasn't talking.

"You want a chance at the systems you have compromised," he whispered, doubtful of the Wraith bothering to place listening devices in their cocoons, but wary nonetheless. "This is the only way."

"Why would the Wraith even need us to have sex?" McKay managed to whine, even in a whisper, "I mean they've only had ten thousand years to experiment on humans – look at the Athosians! Or the midget people on P3X-673 – and what was it with those, were the Wraith trying to breed for tasty hors d'oeuvres, or what? – and why am I even asking you, and it's a soft science question, I can't believe I'm even thinking about it!"

Ronon waited McKay out and kept staring. The sputtering ran down eventually – it always did.

"They don't want to experiment on random humans - they want to experiment on me, McKay. You are incidental."

"Wonderful – what an epitaph. Incidental. They could be draining my mind of countless brilliant secrets, and all they want is my body – and that sounded way more kinky than it should have done."

Ronon was tempted to smile again, but he didn't want to freak McKay out even more. After all, it wasn't as if they were being given a choice here.

"Just live in the moment," he tried.

***

Living in the moment was harder to achieve when the moment in question was looming and naked, and rather more well-fleshed than Ronon usually liked his partners. It also didn't help that McKay was squirming in a decidedly off-putting manner, that the Wraith scientist was staring at them both through the usual organic webwork of bars, and that the equipment surrounding them was giving off extremely distracting humming and beeping noises.

But still, looking on the bright side, they were no longer in the cocoons. To emphasise that fact to himself, Ronon stretched and rolled his bare shoulders, brushing a little futilely at the clinging residue that was drying on his skin. He was aware instantly when the Wraith hissed in apparent satisfaction and McKay went utterly still. Hmm. How interesting. Perhaps McKay's living in the moment could be prolonged rather more easily than Ronon had thought - if that was all it took to distract him, perhaps Ronon should have tried it months ago. It answered his question about McKay's proclivities too.

And then Ronon pounced.

McKay squeaked – and that was sort of interesting as well. Certainly Ronon discovered that a certain part of his anatomy was having no trouble imagining McKay as a potential partner after all – which he hadn't been at all sure about, when push came to shove. So to speak.

He was panting in a quite attractive way too, and when Ronon growled, just a little – just to see what McKay would do – he squeaked again. It was heady enough that Ronon bit down, not hard, but just enough to taste him, and then stroked his hands down McKay's flanks as he writhed under him. Writhed. It was quite satisfying really. If only this exhibition wasn't for the benefit of the Wraith. If only he didn't have stupid wires and sensors attached in a long trail away from his forehead and his chest. If only this scientist of theirs would come a little closer to the bars, just enough to enable Ronon to get a good grip...

He growled again and then swiped his tongue up and under McKay's ear. Licking and biting as he restlessly massaged McKay's slightly too soft flesh. One eye still on the Wraith scientist – who was also apparently enjoying himself, insofar as it was possible to tell. Certainly the creature's breathing had speeded up, and its canines were exposed in a parody of the feeding grimace, but the fine wires and sticky sensors that in turn attached it to its own machine obscured what else might be happening. And as to the _purpose_ of this charade... Well.

Eliciting another of those satisfying squeaks, Ronon shifted onto his knees and lifted McKay's legs up onto his shoulders. That gave him a better view of things, and more control. He looked at McKay – whose eyes had gone wide, his pupils rather dilated, while his breathing was rapid and harsh. His hands were beginning to slap at the almost rubbery surface of the small cage, and he was opening his mouth. Ronon frowned. He might have known the blessed silence couldn't last.

Not having time to argue, Ronon leant a little, until he was squeezing McKay almost double and slapped one broad palm across his mouth. That was better, although the frantic wriggling indicated a Rodney McKay who was unhappy. Or at least... Ah, thought Ronon, enlightenment dawning. McKay must think he was going to fuck him dry. The idea had occurred, but Ronon had no intention of making this encounter any more difficult that it already was. He would have to face everyone back at Atlantis, and work with McKay again, assuming they got out of this, and taking the man this way when he had no idea if he could handle it was hardly going to be good for team morale. But he certainly didn't have time to explain.

He shifted slightly, partly to watch the Wraith more easily, and partly so he could shift his cock so it was no longer bluntly pushing at McKay's ass, but instead rested snugly between his thighs. Nice broad thighs at that. Oh no, this wasn't going to be a hardship at all.

McKay had stopped making noises behind the impromptu gag of Ronon's hand, but Ronon had no intention of letting him go. If there was one thing McKay just could not be trusted with, it was silence. And he needed to concentrate. Slowly, he began pushing himself forward and back, rocking on his heels, and setting up a satisfyingly long stroke. His dick was catching a little on the dry skin, but that would change, McKay was beginning to sweat already, and the burn of the added friction was pleasantly sweet. Ronon grinned down at him, before cocking his head to see what the Wraith was doing.

It was blinking, and its hands were opening and closing spasmodically. It looked… drugged. That was the only word for it. Certainly whatever the machine was doing appeared to have an… interesting effect on it anyway. With a feral kind of glee, Ronon decided that if this was how it reacted to what amounted to vigorous foreplay, then it was going to be interesting to see how it coped during an actual orgasm. It also occurred to Ronon then to wonder how the Wraith had sex. Whether it was purely for reproduction, or as a more pleasurable activity, or even whether they had any at all. And wasn't this a strange set of thoughts to be having.

He grunted a little and speeded up. Pleasurable or not, this was something he did only as a means to an end. If they were to have some chance at escape then McKay needed to be free and able to continue his sabotage. Ronon needed to get them out of this, so he could protect McKay as he worked. Which in turn meant Ronon had to distract, and then preferably kill, this Wraith. _Had_ to. No choice. None.

He punctuated each thought with another thrust. McKay's thighs were almost slippery now, sweat and pre-cum ensuring a better slide, and then as Ronon bared his teeth a little, feeling a gathering, a significant tightening in his balls, he almost yelped as a warm wet tongue suddenly swirled in the hollow of his palm. He focused once more, as McKay did it again, and his gaze locked onto the frantic form in front of him. Wide eyes were startlingly blue above his hand, and the short hair was matted with sweat. And McKay was tense, almost thrumming with it, now Ronon was paying the right sort of attention. Apparently this fitted in with McKay's proclivities entirely too well, as McKay's cock was now straining and red, and very much needing its own kind of attention. Hell, this wasn't supposed to be _fun_. Well. Obviously, to an extent, but…

Ronon growled as he continued to thrust - he was thinking during sex. He _hated_ having to think during sex. Still, if it stopped McKay distracting him... He shifted his hand on McKay's mouth, until he could plunge his index finger inside, even as he moved his other hand from the floor to McKay's cock. Both had a gratifying effect. McKay would have spasmed if he could have moved much in the folded up position he currently occupied, but he did manage to jerk enough to give Ronon more desperately desired friction. He also sucked hard at the invading finger. And that was… good. Yes. That worked.

It was hard on his knees, and also hard on other things, not least his ability to do several things at once, but Ronon began to shift them both across the floor of the cage. McKay was looking startled, but that was nothing new. He was still sucking, a little urgently, and Ronon realised his hand had stopped moving on McKay's cock. Well, the man would just have to wait, there were more important things at this precise moment than getting McKay off, although imagining his likely violent disagreement with that assessment almost made Ronon smile again.

Closer, closer… They were nearly there. And the Wraith still seemed oblivious. Scientists! Were they all so easily distracted, whatever their race? Now Ronon was in position, he could afford to concentrate, and so went back to work. A tiny moan escaped from McKay's mouth, and Ronon looked down. Finally Ronon could fully appreciate the man's skilful tongue as it swirled and sucked on his finger, and wish they had the leisure to explore this discovery, could wish that circumstances were entirely different... No matter. If this worked, there would be time and opportunity. Preferably lots and lots of opportunity.

But first... Ronon began to fully immerse himself in his own sensations, the feeling of McKay's flesh as it slid against his own, the warmth of McKay's cock under his hand. The trickle of sweat as it made its way down his back. This was better. The ability to give himself up to such base pleasures, after so long Running, was glorious. Such indulgence, such rich enjoyment, Ronon was still not used to it, not even after months on Atlantis. He didn't know if he ever would be. But _appreciating_ it now, after such a long deprivation. Well, that was a different matter.

Ronon came with a shout, throwing his head back in abandon for one luxurious second. Then he threw McKay aside and surged towards the bars of the cage, tearing loose the stupid wires as he went. As he had calculated, the Wraith was slumped in a heap, shaking and writhing, unable to cope with whatever his machines had translated the orgasm into. And he was also close enough, as Ronon had hoped. It was the work of but one more moment to wrap the wires round the creature's neck and drag him back against the bars and finish him off. Only then did Ronon allow himself to slump, just for a brief time, his muscles trembling with aftershocks, both pleasurable and painful. Yes. This was still good. Always.

He became aware then of a slight scuffling sound behind him, and raised his head. Of course. McKay. Looking flushed, and dishevelled, and entertainingly annoyed, as he wiped clean his stomach and chest. Ronon found another smile tugging at his mouth, as he stared at McKay, and it came to him then – a tiny revelation, bright like a diamond – that he smiled more around McKay than any other person on Atlantis. Reluctantly much of the time, but it didn't alter the fact that McKay nearly always made him smile. Even when he was angry, or ranting, or just being a bit pissy. And at least this time, Ronon acknowledged to himself, McKay had the right to be a little irritated. If their situations had been reversed, and Ronon had been interrupted so close to release as McKay must have been... Well. The whole saving their lives thing made it understandable, but probably only partly amended the situation. And that made him want to smile again.

Instead, he said, "Get us out of here." And watched as McKay bitched and huffed, and waved his hands, before taking a tool or two from the clothes of the Wraith, and proceeded to do just that.

***

"So – why?" Ronon asked later, once they were both crammed safely in the co-pilot's seat of Sheppard's F-302, McKay tucked between his legs.

He couldn't see McKay's face, but he'd watched him poke about in the Wraith scientist's lab, and he'd waited while McKay had set up the massive chain reaction in their power systems, and he'd watched him disable the communications first to ensure nothing – _nothing_ – about Earth's location could be given away. So Ronon knew that McKay knew something.

He wanted really, to discover if McKay cared enough to bother to tell him.

And McKay went, "It was a ridiculously insane kind of research really…" And talked for the next twenty minutes while Sheppard flew the F-302 towards the nearest solar system that might contain a likely gate. He even waved his hands. It made Ronon feel warm inside, as he rested his palms on McKay's broad shoulders, and listened to the details of an unlikely experiment to do with Ronon's unique physiology, his inability to be fed on by the Wraith, and the ex-Wraith scientist apparently being their equivalent of a fancy chef, or maybe some kind drug dealer. Ronon found it hard to be sure which.

All he really knew was that, despite the cramped conditions, McKay had yet to bitch about their relative places, or about his back going into spasm, or about how this journey was going to cripple him forever. And Ronon thought he knew what that was all about. It meant even more that McKay had said nothing about the small circles that Ronon was stroking into the back of his neck, or about the massive hard-on that had to be at least mildly noticeable, poking him in the spine.

Ronon thought that in the intervening time since Sheppard had rescued them, McKay might have got with the programme. He thought that maybe it was Ronon's turn to pay McKay back. Since he did owe him an interrupted hand job, after all. He thought that it had been a very long time for both of them.

But all he _said_ was, "Huh." And listened to McKay talk.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt:
> 
> _**Liquid Sky**  
> Invisible aliens in a tiny flying saucer come to Earth looking for  
> heroin. They land on top of a New York apartment inhabited by a drug  
> dealer and her female, androgynous, bisexual nymphomaniac lover, a  
> fashion model. The aliens soon find the human pheromones created in  
> the brain during orgasm preferable to heroin, and the model's casual  
> sex partners begin to disappear._


End file.
